Stepping In Time
by Cocoa987
Summary: Bert and the sweepers will always 'step in time' when they are needed. But what if one of their own is the one that needs the help? MaryxBert. T for Violence


**Okay, this is the product of listening to Step in Time over and over again at 10:30 while hopped up on Mountain Dew. I wondered what would happen if the sweepers needed to protect one of their own, (which I consider Mary Poppins to be. She's an honarary sweeper...)**

**Mary** walked slowly down the street, savoring the crisp night air. Winter was coming, she decided. Next time she was out, there might well be snow on the ground. She shrugged the thought away as she checked the clock tower. It was later than she thought. She quickened her pace; she was supposed to meet Bert in five minutes.

The wind started to blow around her, and her umbrella whipped around in the wind. A force from behind hit the umbrella and knocked it from Mary's grasp. It clattered to the street a few feet away.

Mary automatically knelt to pick it up. She was about to grab the umbrella when a boot stepped on the handle, just inches from her hand.

Naturally, Mary panicked. Her umbrella was her safeguard. Without it, she couldn't _do_ things. It was hardly common knowledge that her little accessories were the origin of her magic, and she wanted to keep it that way. However, if the umbrella broke, there would be problems.

Mary looked up, ready to deliver a searing comment. Above, a man towered over her, flanked by at least four others. They had probably come from around the corner. A noise behind her indicated that there were others behind her, probably part of the same group. Mary mentally berated herself. She hadn't been paying any attention to her surroundings. She had been thinking about Bert again.

The men were grinning and chucking, but it sounded wrong. It sounded dangerous. By that point, Mary knew things were about to go drastically wrong.

She stood up gracefully, ignoring the umbrella. She tilted her head at the leader, who still stood at least two inches taller than her.

"Excuse me, sir. That would be mine. If you would please, I do have somewhere to be tonight Mr-?" Mary kept her tone pleasant, but her eyes were ice cold.

"You don't need t' know my name," the leader said. Mary's nose wrinkled in distaste. From the slurred speech, the man- and probably his friends- was obviously drunk. "We want t' know your name, swee'heart."

"Firstly, I am _not_ your sweetheart." Mary said coldly. "My name is Mary. And that's all you ever need know." Mary spun and started to walk away. She desperately wished she had her umbrella, or even her carpet-bag purse, but her purse was at home and her umbrella was being left behind. She would find a way to get it back when she had the upper hand in the situation. For now, all instincts were screaming at her to get out of there.

Two men stood in front of her, blocking her exit. Mary scolded herself quietly. She had forgotten about the people behind her. She turned back, but the men had formed a rough circle. One took a swing at her, and she dodged easily.

Avoiding the first blow had taken her right into the path of another punch. _Crack!_ The fist connected with Mary's jaw, right under her ear. She stumbled, and a foot stuck in her path tripped her. She landed on her knees right in front of the leader. She stood up slowly, rubbing her jaw.

"I _said_," their leader said angrily. "I _said_ I wanted t' know yur name." Mary drew herself up, meeting the eyes of the man.

"All right, then. My name is Mary Poppins. I should warn you, I have friends among the chimney sweeps. They'll make you pay for this." Apparently this wasn't a very serious threat for the men, because they just laughed, and started throwing punches again.

**On** the rooftop overlooking the scene, a sweeper listened. The woman had courage, he'd give her that. Not much sense, but courage. He looked at the figures below, forming a circle around her as she tried to leave. Her appearance seemed so familiar…

When she spoke her name, it triggered his memory. This was _the_ Mary Poppins. The woman the Bert was constantly 'checking in on'. What was she doing here? More importantly, what did these men have against her?

Will winced as another ringing _crack_ sounded throughout the square. He whistled a short tune, his eyes still on the scene below. The melody was a common signal among the sweepers. Help would be coming.

Movement behind him alerted to a presence behind him. A sweep was just coming up the ladder to meet him. Will waited until it was quiet, than spoke quietly. He couldn't let the group below know that there were witnesses.

"It's Mary Poppins." He started. An audible intake of breath told him that a crowd had started to assemble. "She needs our help. We 'ave t'do somethin. Somebody find Bert. He'll want t' be here." A few sweepers left, whistling the news to others. _One of us-trouble. Report McHenry Square. Pass along._

Will rubbed his shoulder absently. It was still a bit sore from the last fight. He sighed and turned to the others still on the roof. He grinned at the sight. They were all grim, ready to fight.

"All right, boys. Y' ready to teach these kids a lesson?"

**Bert** paced at the gate to the park. Mary was late. Mary was _never_ late. Something had to be wrong.

He forced himself to think rationally. She might have been running late on some errands. There might have been a last-minute emergency with the family she was working for. Anything could have happened. That was what worried him.

_Anything can happen._ That was the exact thing that had Bert so worried. He knew that Mary was never late. If anything, she was early. Even if something had come up, she left a note in the chimney for him. She would always place it in a spot where Bert would find it, but where it wouldn't get blown away. There hadn't been a note.

No, something was wrong. Bert could sense it. Yet here he was, standing here like a statue when Mary was missing. He kicked a stone in frustration.

The stone bounced and hit a sweeper's broom across the street. Bert sighed. "Sorry." he called. "I get the feelin' I'm bein' stood up." His words were joking, but his tone was troubled. The sweeper crossed the street and joined Bert. He took a good look at Bert and frowned, concern in his eyes.

"I'll stay here. Go." The sweeper was a good friend of Bert's. He knew about the relationship between Bert and Mary. He also knew that if something was wrong, Bert wouldn't rest until the entire London area had been searched. Bert nodded in thanks.

Bert turned to go, when the sweeper stopped him. "There's been news." He whistled the tune. _One of us-trouble. Report McHenry Square. _Bert frowned. That was near his flat.

"One of us?" Bert asked. The term wasn't used often. It was mostly bestowed on a sweeper, who usually had his own whistle, or a person close to the sweepers. It was elite circle. Sweepers were bound to protect their kind, no matter what the cost.

The other sweeper nodded. Bert frowned. "One of us…oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no." Bert's eyes widened, and his face paled.

"Wha'? What's wrong?" The sweeper demanded. Bert was already running, sprinting toward McHenry Square.

"Mary!" He called over his shoulder. "It'll be her!" The sweeper's own eyes widened. He checked his hidden pocket for his blade, and began running, joining the others making their way toward McHenry Square.

**Mary** stumbled, and then fell, landing hard on her hands and knees. She glared at the men through one swollen eye. The other was already swollen shut.

She tried to stand up, but sank back down when she put weight on her ankle, biting her lip. Two pairs of arms hauled her up, and she groaned softly.

This had been going on forever. She had fought at first, but gave up when it hurt too much to talk. At one point she had seen a street sign and gone wild. This was near where Bert lived. A spark of hope had gone through her. Maybe Bert hadn't left yet. So she started screaming, for Bert at first and then the names of any other sweepers she knew. Nothing.

As she was thrown to the ground yet again, another survival instinct kicked in. She curled up in a ball and covered her head with her hands. She heard dim cursing from the men through her ringing ears.

She was only a few feet from her umbrella. She glared at it. The silly thing had caused this whole mess. If only she could reach it! She started to stretch out an arm, but saw a hand pick up the umbrella and swing it like a baseball bat.

She took the opportunity to cover her head again. "All righ' if thas' how ya' wan t'play, then." She heard a rushing noise. She closed her eyes. It was bound to be the umbrella rushing toward her head. This was going to hurt.

**Will **paced along the rooftop, watching the scene as more and more sweepers arrived. As Mary fell to the ground, a low grumble resounded throughout the crowd. Will could see her face as she started to stand. What wasn't bruised went pale with pain, and she sank down. Will knew that feeling; the ankle was probably broken.

He turned to the other sweepers. "All right. Let's go." The sweepers filed quietly down the ladders and started to surround the square. Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw a flash of movement headed toward the square. He grinned. "Thank God. That'll be Bert."

Will stopped Bert just outside the square. The older man was frantic. "Where is she?" Will pointed to the crumpled figure in the circle. Bert swore quietly. "Let me through, Will." His speech was deadly calm, his accent fading in his fury. Will shook his head.

"You take care of the leader. We'll get the rest." Bert nodded, his face livid.

Will slipped away, joining the rest of the sweepers in the shadows. He saw Bert enter the square, out of sight from the thugs. "And here we go," he said quietly, stepping out of the shadows.

**Mary **never felt the blow. Something must have stopped the umbrella, she thought dizzily. Strong hands lifted her, and she fought feebly.

"Now don't d' that now, Mary. We're on your side, her'." A voice said gently. It sounded familiar. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't open. She finally managed to open an eye a crack. She saw a face covered in soot. A sweeper! She realized giddily.

"Bert?" She croaked. The sweeper smiled quickly, and shook his head. "He's coming, don't ya' worry." She closed her eyes again. Bert was coming. He would take care of things. It would be okay.

She missed the worried look the sweeper gave her. She also missed the way he stared into the fight, praying that Bert had gotten the message.

**Will**watched the fight with mild interest. Now that Mary was out, the sweepers were free to fight. There were a few injuries, but it looked like everyone was going to be okay. That is, on their side. Will didn't really care about the welfare of the thugs.

Tom, one of his best friends took a blow to the head, and he fell to the ground. Will swore and jumped back into the fracas. He took care of the man, and knelt beside his friend. "Tom. Come on, Tom. Get up." Tom didn't move, and Will began to panic. He and Tom were young, new to the sweeper's world. Tom had to be okay.

Will heard a low chuckle, and looked up. The ringleader had come up on him, umbrella in hand. He swung the umbrella experimentally, than lined it up with the unconscious boy's head. Will cried out in shock, and moved to protect his friend. There wasn't need.

As the umbrella arced backward, a hand from behind grabbed it and ripped it out of the man's grasp. Will took the chance to grab Tom's arms and drag him back to safety.

The fighting had stilled, the thugs all escaping or passed out from drunkenness. Only the leader was left. The sweepers formed a semi-circle, protecting their injured. Will set Tom down gently and sat, content to let the older sweepers get the job done.

The square was absolutely silent, except for one voice: Bert's. He was the one who had saved Will. And now, he was standing right behind the leader. Will grinned ruthlessly. This guy was getting what he deserved.

When he turned back to those injured, his smile faded. Mary Poppins lay crumpled in the center, surrounded by sweepers. She looked broken. Will swore under his breath.

He was wrong. These guys deserved worse than this. Worse by a long shot. You never, ever, _ever,_ hurt a woman. Nothing else mattered. You _never _hurt a woman. It went against every code Will had ever known. Will only knew one thing that could make the whole situation just the tiniest bit brighter.

_You never, ever, ever, __ever_ _mess with a sweeper, or someone protected by them. You're just asking for trouble if you do. _

**Bert **grabbed the umbrella out of the man's hand just in time. The young sweeper made his escape with his friend, while Bert delivered a ringing blow to the back of the leader's head.

He watched in mild amusement as the man stumbled, than picked himself up. He paled when he looked at Bert. Bert supposed he looked like he felt: ready to kill.

"Beautiful night, isn't it? Perfect for, oh, I don't know, beating up innocent women." Bert said coldly. The man blanched. Even drunk, he realized that he no longer had the upper hand. Bert smiled grimly.

He named three or four of his friends to give him a hand. The man protested, speaking to him for the first time. "That isn't fair!" Bert frowned in mock confusion.

"I believe you think seven men against one woman are fair odds, then?" The man didn't protest after that.

Bert let his friends beat the leader around for a minute or two, than grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his back. He leaned in close to the man's ear. "If she's dead I'm going to kill you." He pressed the umbrella against the man's throat.

"You can't do anything with that," the man whined. Bert considered for a moment.

"True." Bert said, and tossed the umbrella to another sweeper. The thug's eyes automatically followed the movement. Bert used the second to pull out his switchblade and hold it to the man's throat.

"Better?" He asked pleasantly. Bert felt the man gulp. "I swear, if she's dead, you're the next to go." he snarled. The line of sweepers shifted, and Bert saw Mary's broken form. He swore quietly and pressed the blade closer to the man's throat. Just then Mary shifted and lifted her head.

She looked horrible, but she was alive. The fact made Bert dizzy with relief. He took the blade from the man's neck and put it away, spinning the man toward the edge of the square at the same time.

"I'm sparing your life because I'm in a good mood today, and I don't like killing in front of ladies. But I swear, if I _ever _hear of you touching another woman again, we _will_ hunt you down. And the first you hear of us will be the moment before we kill you." Bert snarled, then kicked him hard, releasing the man at the same time. The man stumbled a good ten feet before falling hard.

Bert heard his friends move to follow him, but he held up a hand. They stopped, and watched in silence as the man made his escape. Only then did Bert turn to the sweepers.

"Five of ya', go afte' hi'. Five of ya', get the polic'." he said, agitation making his accent more pronounced. He waited until ten people had disappeared before shoving through the crowd and collapsing by Mary's side. She was bruised and broken, but she was alive.

"Oh, Mary." he said quietly. "They're goin' t' pay fo' this." Mary's eyes opened a slit.

"Bert?" She croaked. Bert nodded, unable to make himself smile. To his astonishment, Mary began to cry. "Bert!" She reached her arms out, and Bert wrapped his arms around her gently.

He picked her up carefully, swearing quietly at each little cry that she made. He looked at each of the sweepers remaining, his eyes troubled.

"I'm takin' her t' my place." He said quietly.

:::::

Bert set Mary gently down on his bed. He placed the umbrella in her hand, and turned away to put a kettle on to boil. When he turned, Mary was sitting up.

Her color was better, and the worst of her bruises was beginning to fade. She rubbed her jaw with her free hand, and saw Bert gaping at her. She smiled.

"Bert! I thought it was you!" She followed his stare to the umbrella and blushed.

"It's the umbrella, ain't it?" Bert asked at last. Mary nodded guiltily, dropping the umbrella on the bed and leaning back against the wall. Bert sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her.

"You had m' scared, there." He said in her ear. Mary leaned into his embrace. "I though' you were dead there for a minute." He told her, shuddering at the memory.

"I thought I was dead, too." Mary said quietly. "I was scared that you weren't going to come. And then I was scared that you _would_ come, and get yourself hurt." Bert chuckled darkly.

"You needn't worry 'bout me." He said blackly. "It's them that ought t' be watchin' their backs, now." Mary looked at him, then buried her face in his shoulder, shoulders shaking. Bert blinked, then stroked her hair.

"Hey, now. Don't cry. It's okay. They're never going to touch you again. I promise." He said softly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't get there in time." He held her close for a moment or two, then spoke again.

"What _were_ you doing over here? It isn't safe in these parts, Mary." He chided gently. Mary pulled away to look at him.

"_You_ live here." she pointed out. Bert smiled in spite of himself. _This_ was the Mary he knew.

"I can take care of myself," he told her. "Now, brush away your tears. It's over now. I've got people taking care of it." Mary smiled at the reference to the old sweeper's song Bert had taught her. Then her smile faded.

"Why? I'm not a sweep." She asked, a frown creasing her forehead. Bert shook his head.

"You're not a sweep, but you're one of us. You're protected by us. Don't ask how it works, because I don't know. But any one of us will help you, even if you don't know you need the help." Mary was quiet for a moment.

"That's when you step in, step in time." she sang quietly. Bert grinned.

"Exactly. Now get some sleep.

You look like death warmed over." When Mary protested, he was firm.

"You could use an hour of sleep. We'll get ya' home in plenty of time." Mary finally stopped arguing and succumbed to exhaustion, still in Bert's arms.

Will paced by Bert's door, ignoring the stares of the other sweeps. Tom was propped up on the ground, still semiconscious. Will looked at him worriedly. The fight had been over for almost an hour. The blow must have been more serious than they thought. Will considered for a moment, then had the answer; the man was probably using brass knuckles. They packed a nasty punch, and a blow to the head was sure to cause some major injuries.

Will crouched by his friend again, and in doing so nearly missed seeing the door to Bert's flat open. Bert stood in the doorway, examining the small crowd that had assembled outside his apartment.

Finally, someone broke the silence. "Is she okay?" The question sparked a wildfire of chatter, and the question was repeated several times before Bert managed to regain silence.

Finally, he spoke the words they were all dying to hear. "She'll be alright. Come on in, everyone." The crowd streamed in, packing Bert's house to the rafters. Somehow, Will managed to slide in, Tom in tow, and find a place to set his friend gently by the bed.

Mary Poppins looked battered, but on the whole much better than she had an hour ago. No one was surprised. Everyone knew she had magic. It was just another fact. She smiled at the sweeps, then winced.

"Ow." she muttered quietly. Those near her chuckled softly, and Mary shook her head, biting back another smile.

"I don't know what I can do to thank you," she said softly. A sweep Will recognized as a man named Neal beat everyone else to the reply.

"Then don't. We don't need any thanks. Just doin' our job." There was a chorus of assent from the rest of the sweeps, and this time Mary couldn't help but smile.

"I'm glad you all are on my side," she said with a small chuckle. Everyone who heard laughed, and those who hadn't pestered their neighbor until they passed along the joke. Mary coughed quietly, and the group settled down again.

"Just know that if there's anything that you can't solve by your own methods-" she stopped as a few people smirked at the statement and laughed. "Yes, I know it isn't very likely. But if there ever is a time you need help, I'll be there. I'm forever in your debt." Will raised an eyebrow, and looked at Tom. He didn't look any better.

"Mary Poppins?" He asked quietly, his voice breaking slightly. She looked at him curiously. Bert watched from the other end of the bed, examining him coolly. He swallowed hard and pressed on. "My friend here, Tom. He go' hurt, and he's not wakin' up. I was wonderin'-" he stopped, worry making his throat tight.

Mary's eyes fell on the limp boy beside Will and her gaze softened. Inside, Will heaved a huge sigh of relief. He had always heard that Mary had a soft spot for children, but you could never be sure. He summoned up the courage for another go at speaking.

"One of them men, hit 'im in the 'ead, and it must 'ave been mighty hard. It's been ages, and he ain't wakin' up. He's just a kid. He don't deserve t' die." To Will's shame, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He brushed them away quickly. "People say you've got magic, and if it wouldn't be much trouble-?" He stopped, unable to say anything else for fear of tears tracing tracks through his soot-covered face.

Bert's face softened as he looked at the young boy. Mary looked from Bert to Will to Tom, and came to a decision. "Of course I'll help him. Bring him here." Will gently placed Tom on the bed, and Mary placed a hand on his head.

She probed carefully, wincing in sympathy. "Brass knuckles," she muttered to herself. "No wonder." Will watched curiously, and saw her hand flit down to gently rest on her umbrella. Mary's forehead furrowed in concentration, and Tom twitched under her fingertips. He opened his eyes and looked at her blearily.

"Wha?" He said thickly. Mary sighed in relief.

"You've put your friend here through quite a bit of worry. You got hit in the head. Do you remember?" Tom hesitated for a minute. "Don't worry. It'll come back to you." Mary turned to Will. "He's probably got a concussion. Keep an eye on him for the next few days, but he'll be fine."

An audible sigh of relief was heard throughout the crowd. Bert relaxed. He had taken the younger sweeps under his wing, and protected them fiercely. It would be devastating to him if one of them was lost on his watch.

"Thank you, Mary Poppins." Will said quietly. Mary smiled. She looked better, less bruised than she had a moment ago.

"It's no trouble. It's the least I can do after you all risk your lives trying to help me." she said briskly. As Will turned away, he saw Mary's hand gently drop the umbrella. It was the umbrella, he decided. He looked to Bert for confirmation, but the older man smiled and shook his head. Some things didn't need to be said out loud.

Mary looked around the room at the faces that had probably saved her life only an hour ago. "I think you all put what I'm feeling into words in the best way." she told them. With that, she began to sing softly, an old sweeper's tune that was instantly familiar to the rest. They joined her, smiling.

"We will step in, step in time. Over the rooftops step in time. Never need a reason, never need a rhyme, over the rooftops step in time!

Just remember when you're low, feeling in the wars, someone's up your chimney and it isn't Santa Claus. If you need us, if you don't, doesn't make much odds. We'll be watching over you, brushes brooms and…brushes brushes brooms, and rods." The room fell silent for the last line, the sweepers letting Mary and Bert sing the song in perfect harmony. When they finished, the room broke into cheers.


End file.
